


There's a Killer in my Bed

by Sargentpepper23



Series: Trapped, but along for the ride [10]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Hungover pirates, Killer's a tease, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sargentpepper23/pseuds/Sargentpepper23
Summary: “What happened last night"?“You fucked Ever like a savage, and I walked by just as you shoved her out of bed like some used whore.”Or, in other news,Killer wakes up in a bed not his own, Ever gets a new door handle, and Kid ponders his best friend’s potential stripper name.
Relationships: Killer (One Piece)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Trapped, but along for the ride [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1443649
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	There's a Killer in my Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone,  
> This silly idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so here it is!

“Kid? I-um. I have a problem.”

The captain craned his head up towards Ever’s voice. The stars in the sky were spinning, and he squinted in an effort to focus on the woman. Why the hell was Ever taller than him? Oh wait, he's seated, duh. Clutching his mug of… shit he forgot what was in it after the 8th refill, he slurred, “I’m the right man for the job,” he jammed his thumb towards his face, nearly poking his eye out, “I can fix _any_ problem.”

Her face, no, faces did something, but it was hard to tell what it was. There were two of them, and they kept wobbling, blending in with each other. “Um, that’s great, but it requires getting up.”

“Pssshhh, you think I can’t? I’ll show you.” Downing the rest of his drink while spilling copious amounts of it down his chest, he threw the mug, slammed his hands down on the table, and stood, only for the world to violently spin, and he nearly trips over a chair leg. Warm hands, soft and definitely not Killer’s, grabbed his right arm and side to stabilize him. Speaking of, where the fuck was he? They always peeled each other up off the deck when they got rip-roaring drunk. Why was it Ever struggling to support him and not his best friend? “Hey,” he slurred again, “where’s Killer”? 

Shifting his massive arm over her shoulders, she looped an arm around his waist and tugged him towards the open deck door, “That’s the problem. He’s in my room.”

Kid snorted, uncharacteristically compliant as he let Ever lead him across the deck and down the perilous six steps into the hall, “Then why the fuck do you need me? Tell him to get the fuck out.”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, and when she did finally respond, she mumbled it into his coat, her voice pleasantly vibrating across his skin yet unintelligible, to say the least. Grumbling his discontent at her lack of enunciation, he pressed further, “Ever, why can’t you- _Fuck!”_

Tripping over what he would later swear was _not_ a line in a wooden plank, Kid dragged Ever with him as he nearly collided into a wall. She swore colorfully, those words, and her next ones, crystal clear and frustrated, “Kid, _please_ just, just help me, ok? I can’t move him on my own.”

The world was still spinning, and he relied heavily on her smaller frame as they stumbled down the hall and around the corner, near her room. Stopping before her door, Kid was in no capacity to wonder why Ever’s door-handle was bent in half on the floor, or why there was a hole in the wood where it was supposed to be. However, it clicked in his brain a good ten seconds after the door swung open, the moonlight shining through the tiny porthole on the back wall offering some insight into what the fuck was going on.

There was his best friend, naked except for a thin white sheet wrapped around his waist, passed out face down on Ever’s twin-sized bed. His muscular frame swamped the poor mattress, his feet dangled off the end by a good foot, and his hair was everywhere. However, what sobered Kid up was the sight of Killer’s mask perched neatly on the shelf next to the bed, exactly where he usually puts it in his own room.

Uncomfortable for a number of reasons Ever leaned Kid up against the doorframe, and backed away, “I think he thought this was his room. I didn’t ask, I mean, I haven’t gone in there. It just, it didn’t feel right,” she trailed off in a small voice, staring at the mask on her shelf, “I didn’t want to invade his privacy.”

Kid had yet to take his eyes off Killer, but the crease between his eyes made it obvious he was thinking about something. He took in the man’s boots at the end of the bed, the shirt and jeans shucked off in front of her dresser, and black boxers draped over her alarm clock, obscuring the time. Behind him, Ever flinched when the first mate’s left arm slipped off the bed and hit the floor with a soft _thunk_ , his fingers within quick reach of his boot knife.

“Kid,” she sounded so unsure, “what do I do”?

At that moment, he made a decision. Stumbling into her room, he grabbed a pen and sticky note off her dresser, scribbled something on it, and fished out a ring of keys from Killer’s jeans. Somehow making it back into the hallway without tipping over, he none to gently shut the door and slapped the note on it, reading, “ _Enter and die. –Kid_.” Next, the captain inaccurately tossed the keys at her, which hit the wall, and grumbled, “You’re sleeping in his room tonight.”

If Kid had been sober, he would have laughed his ass off at the dumbstruck look on Ever’s blushing face. However, he was shit-faced and was in no shape to answer her stuttering questions and spiraling thoughts, “But, but that’s _his_ room! I can’t just go in there. What if he gets mad? Do I sleep in his bed? No, I’ll just sleep on the floor. Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll find a blanket and sleep on the floor. And I can sleep in these clothes, it’ll be fine. They’re damp and smelly, and ugh, I’m never going to get this beer stain out, but I’ll be fine. But what if he wakes up before me and finds me in his room? I don’t think I-“

Yeah, Kid was _done._ He mushed her face between his hands and said with authority in his voice, “You are going to go into his room, sleep in his bed, and change out of _that_ ,” he wrinkled his nose at the sight, “and into something clean. Got it?”

Taken aback, Ever nodded the best she could, and Kid released her, only to stumble backward. She went to help him, but the man waved her off as he steadied himself against the wall. Leaning on it like a lifeline, he headed back in the direction of the deck, muttering, “I need another drink,” and left her nervous ass in the hallway.

Ever’s fingers curled in on themselves, and she stared long and hard at the ring of keys shining just out of reach on the floor. She knew why she was anxious. Knew she could easily chalk it up to any number of reasons, one of them being a stark reminder that the men on this ship could break into her room at their convenience. And while this is true, and is a thought she refused to ponder on in fear of inducing a very understandable panic attack, it wasn’t the issue at hand.

Instead, like a love-struck teenager, she was a ball of nerves because she was about to sleep in her crushes bed. _Ugh_ , cue the dry heaving noises. She cringed just thinking about her mushy feelings, but it was sickeningly true. In fact, this whole situation sounded like an unbelievable scene straight from a teenage romance novel, and much to her horror and shameful delight, she was A-ok with that.

Nodding in self-affirmation, she scooped up the keys and walked five doors down to Killer’s room, only struggling with the lock for a moment before opening the door and flipping the light on. This was going to be an experience, and my god, she would enjoy every damn second of it.

From the few times she had hovered in his doorway, usually waiting for him to grab something off the long workbench shoved in the back right corner, his room looked the same. Clean, near Spartan in décor, and the open space in its center significantly larger than the tiny closet she called home. His queen-sized bed stuck out from the middle of the left wall, the navy blue comforter pressed perfectly flat, with two standard pillows propped up against the square sandalwood headboard. Next to it, a floating shelf in the same wood tone hovered at mattress height, the light from the small alarm clock on it purposely muted. Directly across the room, a door, which Ever assumed lead to his closet, was shut, and the small dresser beside it had several books neatly stacked atop it.

Impressed by her temporary digs, she locked the door behind her, kicked her sandals off, and made a beeline for his closet. Thanks to Dez’s unsteady hand, she reeked of beer, and her damp shirt clung uncomfortably to her skin. Throwing open the door and flipping the light on, she expected to see a wall of blue t-shirts, and hoped there would be multiple masks hanging on the backside of his door, mounted like creepy trophies in a pagan shrine. Instead, Ever stared in disbelief.

_This bitch has a bathroom and didn’t tell me about it?!_

Sure enough, a small, albeit full bathroom lay before her. Similar to his room, it was clean and organized, with only a hairbrush and blue toothbrush sitting on the tiny sink counter. The toilet was tucked in next to it, and- _You’ve got to be kidding me. HE HAS A SHOWER?_

She stomped over to the near heavenly utility. _I've been using Kid's for months, and there's been a perfectly good one here this entire time? Killer doesn’t even use it! He’s been taking his showers in the locker room. Why the hell is this man-child- Ohhhhh, that's why._

Ever ripped open the white curtain, and snickered at what she saw. Everything made sense now. The showerhead was fixed low on the wall, almost comically so. It probably hit Killer mid-chest when he showered, and there was no way he would be able to easily wash all that hair of his unless he scrunched down like some sort of hunch-backed goblin. Peeking back into his room, even though she knew no one would be there, she oh so innocently flipped the shower on, and squealed in delight when hot water poured out.

On cloud nine, she stripped, threw her nasty shirt and other clothes into the bottom of the tub, and stepped in. Arching her back into the warm spray, she groaned. This was the fucking dream, and no one could convince her otherwise. Toeing her soaked clothes to the side, she was perfectly content to stand there until the water ran cold, but eventually relented to the fact that 1. She should probably get to bed, and 2. This will _not_ be the last time she used his shower. Scrubbing herself before continuing the effort on her clothes, she finished up, grabbed the navy blue towel folded neatly next to his shower caddie, and stepped out. Wringing her clothes and hanging them up to dry on various parts of the shower, she made her way back into his room to find something to wear, flipping off the now blinding bedroom light from the second switch. 

Guided by the dim light from the bathroom, Ever unapologetically rifled through Killer’s dresser drawers until she pulled out a soft, surprisingly purple t-shirt, his jolly roger proudly emblazoned on its front. Humming thoughtfully, she dropped the towel and slid the massive shirt over her head, the hem hanging down to her knees. Inwardly, she preened like a silly schoolgirl. _Some girls get hoodies, I get sleep shirts._ Strutting back to the bathroom, she allowed herself to model in front of the mirror for only a moment before reaching for his hairbrush. If he were any other person, she would have never considered using it, but this was Killer. His hair was most undoubtedly clean, and he had once offered it to her when Kid stole and melted hers down for a plastic part. She had a feeling his offer still stood. Hair presentable, she found his toothpaste behind the mirror turned medicine cabinet, and scrubbed her teeth with a finger, finally ready for bed. _Speaking of…_

She stared out into his room again, the pristine comforter and pillows almost _too_ perfect in their appearance. Smirking, she plunged the bathroom in darkness and took off across the smooth wood to belly flop onto the firm mattress. _Oh, sweet Jesus, this is SO comfy!_ Groaning in happiness, she savored the moment before crawling up the bed and burrowing herself facedown under the covers. What was that thought she had earlier in the shower about it being a dream? Yeah, she was wrong. _This_ is the fucking dream. The covers were warm, she could splay out like a starfish if she wanted, and that distinct metallic, lemon, and sea salt smell of him was everywhere.

Grabbing the pillows, she popped one under her head and slid the other one under the sheet to snuggle with, her arm pulling it flush with her side. In bliss, she nuzzled the blanket and almost immediately found that perfect sleeping position, her last coherent thought the fact that tonight would be so much better if she had someone to snuggle with.

~~

Turns out, Ever didn’t need to worry about Killer making it back to his room before she left.

Drying dishes in the empty kitchen, she glanced out of the serving hatch at the clock hanging in the dining room, the time reading 9:32 am. Breakfast had come and gone, and while it was Ed’s turn to do the dishes, she had volunteered, taking pity on the poor man who had flinched at every clink and scrape of metal on glass.

Over the clatter of shoving the spoons back in their drawer, she heard a loud thud, followed by swearing. Turning to the coffee pot behind her, Ever fixed Kid's coffee just the way he liked it and slid the steaming mug out onto the bar when the captain folded himself into a chair.

Unsurprisingly, Kid looked rough this morning. Dressed in nothing but sweat pants, his shoulders were hunched, his face a shade paler than usual, and his hair was as unruly as ever. Still, his eyes sparked just a bit when he sipped his coffee, signaling some form of life resided in the shriveled husk of the man.

Looking him over but knowing better than to say a word, Ever turned and fiddled around for some leftover toast, eventually sliding it towards him on a napkin. He grunted and bit into it slowly, only to scarf down the rest of it as the coffee worked its magic. Satisfied that he was functional, she returned to drying the dishes.

She worked in silence until Kid spoke, his voice rough with sleep, “Has he come out yet”?

Ever looked up from stacking the plates as quietly as possible, “Not that I’m aware of.”

The captain grinned, which is _never_ a good sign, “Good. I want to see him panic.”

She rolled her eyes and fixed him with a look as she leaned onto the serving hatch, “Really? You’re going to tease him about taking his mask off around other people? That’s just mean. You know he’s sensitive about that stuff.”

“What,” he asked in a tone that implied she’s a moron, “No, he’s not going to panic about that until later.”

Ever could think of one other reason why he might panic, but it was too enticing to put into words.

No need to worry, Kid did it for her, “Nah, he’s going to panic because he’ll wake up in your room, buck ass naked, mask off, and _you_ nowhere in sight, which will be strange because any woman he fucked the shit out of the night before should still be under him and eager to go another round.”

_Fuuucckkkk_

Warmth flooded her cheeks, and her thighs clenched as a bolt of electricity raced through her core. She did not need to think about this right now. Even if it was something she had thought about more often than any sane person would.

Kid cackled at her embarrassment, “I knew it. You want to fuck him.”

She scowled but snapped back with no real bite, “You’ve known that since you caught me ogling him less than a month into this shit show you call a ship.”

“Absolutely, but you’ve never said it out loud until—“

There was a loud yelp from down the hall, and the pair stilled. Eyes sparking mischievously, Kid tossed her a wicked grin, “Let’s fuck with him a bit.”

She knew she shouldn’t. It’s wrong to spin stories when the person in question really had no idea what had happened, but the shit they could pull with the first mate was tempting. Shooting back a grin just as wicked, she whispered, “Just a little, and no lying.”

The pair’s grins dropped into lines of bored innocence as the man of the hour blew into the dining room like a hurricane. His shirt was backward, but his clothes were (unfortunately) on, his mask covered his face, and his hair stuck out every which way like a lion’s mane. Spotting the two, he froze, “Kid, Everly,” he whispered in awe.

Oh, this was way better than Ever thought it would be. Plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on her face, she leaned further out of the serving hatch and drawled, “Well, good mornin’ Goldilocks! How ya feelin’”?

He didn’t move, which only encouraged Kid, “Ever was just tellin’ me your fat ass booted her out of her own bed.”

“You haven’t heard the worst part,” she pointed her hand in mock outrage at Killer when the captain turned back towards her, “he was in such a hurry to get in my bed, he ripped my door handle out! Can you believe it? The _audacity_ of that man”!

The captain gasped like the drama queen he is, "No, he didn’t”! Whirling on Killer, he crossed his arms like a disappointed mother, “Breaking and entering? Property damage? _Indecent exposure_? Do you have _anything_ to say for yourself”?

By now realizing they were fucking with him, Killer huffed, unamused, “Immature, the both of you.”

Grinning good-naturedly, Ever swung around to fix the poor man a cup of coffee as he made his way over to sit next to Kid. The captain slapped him on the back, which elicited a grunt from his hungover best friend, and asked a smidge too loud, “Did you sleep well asshole”?

Killer didn't answer him but murmured a thank you to Ever as she quietly placed a steaming cup before him. He turned towards her, hesitant, “What happened last night,” he asked, sipping from his straw to hide his nerves.

Kid cut off Ever’s truthful reassurance with a devious smirk, “You fucked Ever like a savage, and I walked by just as you shoved her out of bed like some used whore.”

Killer spat out his straw and choked on the coffee, burning like fire down his throat.

Ever looked everywhere but at the man struggling to breathe. _Goddammit. Of course Kid would say something like that, and I’m the freak that wouldn’t mind anything about that scenario because I’d just drag his ass out of bed with me._

"Don't listen to him, Killer," she shot Kid a look before turning to him, “he’s lying. You got confused and thought my room was yours. I came back to change, and you were passed out on my bed."

Killer cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as he questioned, “So…”

"Nothing happened," she patted his hand in false reassurance, "Your virginity is still in-tact."

Kid fucking snorted at that, and Killer deadpanned, all three of them well aware of the inaccuracy of that statement. Still, if he was in her bed, where did she…

Curious, he asked, “Where did you sleep last night”?

She looked down and muttered something unintelligible, nervously fiddling with something out of sight. Momentarily stumped by that action, her cheeks were a pretty pink as she slid his ring of keys across the counter, “You took my bed, so I took yours,” she mumbled.

This had to be a cruel joke because if it wasn’t, he had been cheated. She had gone into his room and slept in his bed. He had so many questions. Did she curl up under the covers, or sprawl out, claiming everything-

“I borrowed a towel and one of your shirts. They’re in the laundry now, so I’ll have them folded and returned to you by this afternoon.”

His brain was short-circuiting. She used his favorite towel, which means she showered, so the only logical conclusion was that last night, she was _naked_ in his room _._ The woman, who drove him up the wall in all the right ways, had been naked in his room, and he _wasn’t there_. Adding insult to injury, she wore one of his shirts to bed. _SHE WORE ONE OF HIS SHIRTS TO BED!_ Fuck, he would be willing to do a lot of questionable and downright immoral things to see her in one of those. He was positive the shirt would hang off her smaller frame, long enough that it would be impossible to tell if she was wearing anything underneath it-

Whoa there. That’s enough of that. Ever is his friend first, late-night fantasy second. He had been the one to put her out, and she did what she had to last night. Of course she would sleep in the only other unoccupied bed on the ship. What else would she do, sleep on the floor? Actually, she would do something ridiculous like that, refusing to “impose” herself-

Kid elbowed him, and he jerked his head up, suddenly aware they were waiting for him to speak. “Uh, you didn’t have to do that, Ever,” he pulled a large amount of coffee through his straw, giving him more time to think. “I broke your door, took over your room, and left your bed a sty. The least I can do is clean up from what you used.”

She looked appalled by his suggestion, and Killer knew without a doubt his room would be spotless when he walked in as if she had never been in there, which was such a _god damn_ disappointment.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he said sincerely. “It probably freaked you out seeing someone had broken in. I’ll fix your door this afternoon and add another lock for good measure,” he finished lamely, knowing this was not nearly enough to make up for what he had done.

Her mouth quirked up in a hint of a smile, “Apology accepted. Though, you can sweeten the deal if you let me use your shower from now on. It’s cleaner than Kid’s.”

 _Abso-fucking-lutely you can use it_.

“Deal,” he managed to say without sounding as breathless as he felt.

She smiled fully at that, all white teeth, pink lips, and sweet Jesus he is totally wrapped around her finger, "Great! Thanks, Killer."

He took another long pull of his coffee. This woman could ask him to jump off a cliff, and his only question would be how high—

Ever’s watch trilled, and the sound ricocheted painfully through his helmet. Turning it off, she made her way out of the kitchen, “That’s my cue to switch the laundry over,” she looked towards him, “You good if I give it to you when you stop by later”?

“That’s fine. I’ll be there in a bit.”

She smiled once more and left the room, leaving Killer alone with his thoughts.

Except, Killer wasn’t alone, and as if in reminder, the person next to him intentionally slurped their coffee. Grimacing, he turned to face Kid and groaned at the shit-eating smirk on his friend’s face. He knew what he was in for, months of teasing, lewd comments, and probably a couple of jokes revolving around the name Goldilocks.

Apparently, that particular form of torture was the first on Kid's agenda. "Goldilocks,” he said as if testing out the way it rolled off his tongue, “was she referring to your hair, possible stripper name, or that nasty habit of yours where you crawl into other people’s beds”?

~~

BONUS

Folding the mound of laundry on her bed, Ever watched Killer finish patching the hole in her door. True to his word, he had swung by her room an hour after she had left, tools in one hand, fresh cup of coffee in the other.

Silent in his work, he reached behind him for her "new" doorknob, which, judging by the distinctive dent on its top, he had removed from the supply closet down the hall. Tightening the screws and jiggling the knob to test its sturdiness, he shook it one more time in confirmation and went about preparing to install an intimidating deadbolt above it.

Impressed by the relative ease in which he fixed something that would typically have her panic calling her father for help, she shoved yet another pair of clean underwear under her pillow when he wasn’t looking. Just because she liked the man doesn’t mean she wanted him to see her lacy pink thong.

Nearing the bottom of the pile, she pulled out his navy blue towel, the soft cotton still warm from the dryer. Folding it, she placed it on the end of her bed and searched for his shirt, finding it tangled in a pair of her jeans and- _Goddammit_! She shoved another thong under her pillow, this time the royal blue color identical to the shirt he was wearing. Unrolling the purple fabric, she held it up before her to fold, only to hesitate. Did he fold it all in thirds with arms tucked in, or in half with the arms tucked in, and then in thirds?

“Hey,” she asked, staring at the shirt as if it were a puzzle, “how do you fold your shirts? I don’t want you to have to refold it if it’s not the way you like it.”

He turned, ready to show her when the imaginary light bulb above his head sparked to life, a brilliant idea forming in his mind.

Leaning back against the doorframe, he purposefully crossed his muscular arms, having noticed long ago Ever’s attention would drift to his biceps whenever he did so. Smug when she predictably did just that, he replied lowly, “Fold it however you like, you can keep that one.”

Green eyes snapped up towards his hidden ones, “What,” she squeaked, her hands scrunching the fabric in their grip.

He gestured towards the shirt with a nod of his head, “Keep it. You’ll get more use out of it than I will. Purple’s not my color.”

A myriad of emotions flickered across her flushed face, but he took delight in watching her dumbstruck look morph into a cheeky grin, “Is that so,” she asked in faux innocence, “Come to think of it, there’s a rumor going around that you’re more of a blue kind of guy.”

He grinned back and pushed himself off the wall, stopping half a step closer than where he probably should have, “Blue, huh? Wonder why they figure that?”

Now it was her turn to cross her arms, her new purple shirt grazing her calves as she leaned forward, “I think it’s your shirts,” she replied very much like a smart ass.

He stepped closer, close enough that their body heat was crackling between them. If he wanted, he could wrap his arm around her waist and drag her forward into his chest. Tilting his head down towards her, he reached as if to do just that, “You don’t think it’s my sheets,” he purred in question.

Ever’s breath hitched at his change in tone, his wicked insinuation, and damn if that didn’t light a fire through his veins. However, this was all part of the game they had been playing the past few months, and she was sorely mistaken if she thought he would crumble at this point.

No, this is payback for how she teased him last week. When she left him sprawled out on the sparring mat, dazed by the hands that had tantalizingly crawled down his chest, and utterly pissed off that her sneaky move had elicited by far the worst hard-on he'd had in years.

She squirmed as his fingers brushed against her side, and he smirked, leaning forward to deliberately breathe hot and heavy into her ear, ”Or maybe,” he reached past her, plucked the towel off her bedspread, and took one giant step back as if he hadn’t just riled her up “it’s my towel.”

The half-second crest-fallen look on her face, followed by the frustration blazing in her eyes, pleased him to no end. She had to learn he wasn’t above teasing her back. Which he found in and of itself hysterical because when he did tease her, it drove her crazy. At best, she’s downright impatient when hot and bothered, and Jesus, what the hell would she do if he did push her too far one day…. 

_Later_. He’d think on that in the privacy of his room later, and without a doubt, waste more water on yet another cold shower. The only good thing about that ridiculous showerhead of his is it’s mounted high enough to hit his fucking balls.

Cocky off his apparent win, he waved the rolled-up towel at her and sealed his victory with a final suggestive comment, “I thought this would have been your first guess, seeing as you were _dripping_ in it last night.”

He left with that parting shot, tossing the key to her new deadbolt on her bed as he cleared the doorway, and resisted the temptation to turn back and end their little game here and now. 

Soon. This back and forth between them would end soon, _had_ to end soon. He was about ready to crawl out of his skin with need, and while he’s no mind reader, Ever’s behavior seemed just as desperate, just as wound up and twitchy as his own. 

But this was kind of fun. The teasing, the suggestive comments, the smart-ass retorts, and sarcastic replies, all of it. They were feeling each other out, pushing one another's buttons to see who would crack first. Even now, part of him couldn't wait for their next face-off or her retaliatory action that was surely coming.

Halfway down the hall, and pondering what she might do tomorrow, he grinned when he caught what could only be described as a wordless shriek followed by the slam of a door.

_Yeah, one of us will crack soon, but not yet._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone is doing well and not going stir crazy like I am!


End file.
